The eastern front of Lion State was engulfed in raging flames and thick smoke, while the West Boro Sea on the other side remained calm and peaceful.
Three heavily laden cargo ships sailed steadily across the sea, their towering bows cleaving through wave after wave.
Standing at the edge of the deck, Henk faced the sea breeze with an ambitious look on his face. His upturned nose looked exactly like the ship's bow cutting through the waves.
There was no doubt that he was a pure-blooded Velander, born in Triumph City, a place of supreme glory and wealth.
However, Triumph City had been too crowded, so while he was still young, he had followed his parents to the distant New Continent, opening new territory for the Velanders on fresh land.
His father had been a centurion. If nothing unexpected had happened, he should have become a glorious soldier like his father and earned merit on the battlefield.
Unfortunately, a tiger father had produced a dog son. He simply was not cut out for war, failing both the Youth Army selection and the reserve officer examinations one after another.
Especially the Youth Army selection.
He had not even made it to the second round. He had been eliminated during the first-round physical examination, and among the various fitness tests, only swimming had barely earned him a passing grade.
The truth was that even a race born for battle did not mean every individual was good at fighting.
Disheartened, Henk had once given himself over to despair, drinking himself numb every day. Then one day, a friend he had met during his youth training camp days brought him a bottle of "Big Bird Spin Spin Spin Vodka" from the Old World, and he suddenly snapped out of his haze—
What the hell